


only a little human

by nomadicdeer (someonestolemycoffee)



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, and andrew is chill w that, for the net creation event!!, i don't think its enough for an ao3 warning, neil is a hybrid monster thing, only a lil gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 20:38:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12565728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonestolemycoffee/pseuds/nomadicdeer
Summary: Neil Josten was a monster. That’s what everyone told him at least, and he started to believe it.Blood didn’t taste good. He needed it less often as a hybrid, but he ran the risk of starving if he lost track. Most of the time, he remembered. Flesh was trickier; he could avoid the gore for a while if he drank enough and didn’t get hurt.Neil Josten was a scoundrel, a mutt, the unwanted bastard of right and wrong but much more wrong. That’s what he told himself, at least.





	only a little human

**Author's Note:**

> for the tfc net halloween creation event!
> 
> TFC-NET’S 2017 Spooky Creation Event: .
> 
> ↳ monster!neil

Neil Josten was a monster. That’s what everyone told him at least, and he started to believe it.

Blood didn’t taste good. He needed it less often as a hybrid, but he ran the risk of starving if he lost track. Most of the time, he remembered. Flesh was trickier; he could avoid the gore for a while if he drank enough and didn’t get hurt.

Neil Josten was a scoundrel, a mutt, the unwanted bastard of right and wrong but much more wrong. That’s what he told himself, at least.

Blood was a necessity. It burned sliding down his throat and sat sourly in the stomach of a being who shouldn’t exist. The flesh couldn’t be easily substituted by cuts of beef or pork. It all needed to be fresh, warm, raw. It tasted disgusting and was too stringy for his liking.

Neil Josten was made a monster by his father. He wasn’t in any way proud to be what he was and knew he would never find comfort in his life, but he was near impossible to kill by design. Cigarettes were one of the few things that made him feel alive, filling him with a better burning.

Being recruited by the Foxes was a nightmare, but he was going to need to move soon anyway. Millport was a small town and only so many people could go missing within a fifty mile radius before suspicion arose.

His magnetism was easily unnoticable, but some felt it if they were searching close enough. It was faint to humans, but Andrew seemed to realize it from the second they met. It was doubtful that he knew what it meant, but confusion painted his face for just a second.

He had made a promise to himself long ago not to kill if he didn’t have to. It was easy once he gained control and he tried to minimize his need as much as possible, but there came a point when he lost control, needed to hunt, and he wanted to be conscious. The first night in Palmetto, he had to leave Wymack’s.

Downtown Palmetto was a strange place for him, but he managed to run into a dark-haired man who was willing to sleep with him in exchange for a couple vodka crans. He smelled like alcohol and was far past intoxicated, making the burn that much worse.

Abby was mortal. She saw the charmed restraints holding his wings down as nothing more than maimed flesh.

His biggest fear living in Palmetto was that his new team would find out what he was. For now, he used charms and restrictive wear. It kept him looking human. He changed out alone in the locker rooms; not only was his torso made of scar tissue, but his wings would be too visible.

Andrew was never convinced. Neil found that out every time he was brought back to Columbia, never forced after the first time but always warned.

The first time Andrew knew something for certain was probably when he found Neil on the roof one day at the beginning of January.

He knew it was dumb, but he couldn’t leave that night and he needed something, anything to curb the hunger until he could hunt. He sat on the roof and sunk his teeth into his own arm, feeling the sharpness of them rip through tissue. He held them there, stale blood on his tongue. His flesh was human and his but tough to get through, like he was denaturing, rotting.

Barely alive but impossible to kill.

Andrew had found him up there, blood down his shirt and skin torn from bite wounds. His claws scratched lines through his jeans and into his ankle as he gripped it to try and stay grounded. The restraints were heavy on his chest and hindering his breathing.

Neil managed to unhook his teeth and say with a full, lisping mouth, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t think you will,” he said, tapping his armband once.

“Those things won’t do anything to me. You should just leave and forget about this.”

Andrew scoffed. “What a stupid thing to say.” He looked at Neil’s arm, all the skin that was still intact stained pink. Dark red and rusted brown ran down his chin and out of his arm in waves--not pulses. Only the truly living had pulses.

“Any questions before I run off?” He willed his jaw to return to a human form, for his teeth to retract. Slowly, they did, and he could feel his blunt human set replacing them. The worst part was always the pain of his jawbone shifting.

Andrew cocked his head. “Don’t run.”

“That isn’t a question.”

“I know.” He stepped closer, slower every time he saw Neil flinch, and sat across from him. “What are you?”

“A monster.”

He seemed to consider it. “Do you regret being a monster?”

“I can’t. It wasn’t my choice.”

“Then whose was it?”

Neil closed his eyes and focused on anything but the smell of Andrew. “My father.”

“Do you love being a monster?”

“No.” He held up his arm, showing off the damage he had just done.

“Then you’re not a monster.” Andrew looked to his arm and his mouth. “You’ve been starving yourself.”

Neil scowled. “You’re reacting too calmly right now. What, you’ve had run-ins with the supernatural? Are you a teenager who wants to fuck a zombie in a graveyard?”

“Depends, where’s the closest graveyard?” he asked. His take on a joke, and one that Neil didn’t appreciate. “I’ve had more than enough run-ins. I’ve been expecting this. What exactly are you?”

Neil sighed. “Why would I tell you anything? Truth for a truth, cough it up.”

Andrew made a face. “I was in foster homes with fae more than once. But that’s not what you are.”

He shook his head. “I’m a mutt. Vampire, wolf, ghoul, fae, you name it. I’m a hybrid experiment designed to be unkillable, not functional. It’s surprising that I am.”

“I wouldn’t call you functional.”

Neil flipped him off and stood on shaking legs. “Get out of here, you smell like blood.” He wanted nothing more than to undo his restraints and stretch out his wings, let himself take a deep breath.

“Speak for yourself.” Andrew stood after him. “You need to eat. What are you going to do?”

Shrugging, he managed to stumble over to the door. He pulled his sleeve back down over his arm, hissing. His teeth were already shifting back into place. Andrew stepped closer and he sank to the concrete, his knees getting weaker.

Andrew had kissed him before. Now, he knelt down in front of him and said, “Look up at me.”

With strain, he did. Andrew was too close. He knew his eyes were probably terrifying; he let them go blue, his wolf showing itself in the only way it could, but he knew that they were nearly black now.

“Can you drink without killing someone?”

He nodded. “Won’t turn, won’t kill.” His speech was slurred now, along with his lisp.

“Where do you bite?”

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, trying to withstand the pain in his gut. “Anywhere with a pulse.” He was hardly decipherable, but Andrew seemed to get it as he leaned in and tilted his head to the side.

“You’re an idiot.” Neil was looking him square in the face now, and fuck did he smell good. Blood burns but it smells heavenly. “Why would you do this?”

“Neil, yes or no?”

He looked up at Andrew through his eyelashes, too tired to properly raise his head. Andrew, with his rarely changing expressions, looked sincere and determined.

“Yes.” He managed to pull himself up enough so he was at level with Andrew’s neck. “It won’t hurt bad.”

“Just do it.” He managed to sound bored at a time like this.

His pulse was hammering. Neil didn’t need to feel for it. With a final breath, he bit down. Andrew made a noise like shock, but it wasn’t quite pain. His mouth filled with blood and he enjoyed the relief he got for a moment before the burning set in.

His throat was on fire. His stomach felt like it was getting stabbed and he felt his temperature go up, which would have been fine if he were just a vampire. His wolf kept his temperature up though, so the natural reaction ran him a fever.

Andrew’s hand gripped his forearm, the one he hadn’t been biting, and Neil unhooked his teeth soon after. He licked the blood pooling behind, lapping at Andrew’s neck until the holes were barely visible and the bruise looked like a hickey.

Andrew stared at him for a moment. “Did you take enough?”

“Enough to keep me upright until I can hunt.” He searched Andrew’s face for some sign of regret or fear. “Thank you.”

“You have a neck fetish.”

“Can you blame me?” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He could retract his teeth easily now that he had gotten something in his stomach. Andrew stood and he got up after, brushing loose gravel off his pants.

Neither moved for a few long seconds. “What does hunting entail?” Andrew asked.

“I need something more than blood. Not often, but sometimes.”

He nodded once. “Eden’s is inconspicuous, if that’s what you need. Roland is fae.”

“I noticed.” Roland noticed him too, but they had a silent agreement not to mention it. “Does he--?”

“No. His friends come in sometimes though, have their fill. You could get in and out.”

“I don’t kill.” He put his hands loosely in his hoodie pocket. “Not humans, at least. Not when I’m hunting. I just go to Blue Ridge.” The mountains near Palmetto had enough wildlife that he could easily find something.

Another short nod. Andrew turned and left, leaving the door open behind him. Neil followed, still weak, his skin burning up. At the dorm, Andrew went about making hot chocolate while they talked and Neil washed his face in the sink. “How often?”

Neil understood the question well enough. “About once a week for blood. Everything else, only every month or two. Depends on if I’ve been hurt. That’s partly how my body heals itself.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes. “You’re a wolf.” He seemed done with asking questions, instead leading Neil to answers.

“I don’t change with the full moon. It’s inside of me, but not strong enough to break out against my will. And my ghoul face is what needs flesh, not the vampire. The fae needs lifeblood.”

“You said there was more.”

“I’m only a little human,” Neil said, taking the mug that Andrew had slid to him. Hot chocolate was usually too sweet, but it was greatly appreciated now.

The whir of the fridge was a calming background noise as Neil fought his instinct to run from the truth. He had wanted to give truths for truths before, but he found that he didn’t mind sharing this for nothing in return.

Still, Andrew asked, “Don’t you have anything to ask me?”

“I think saving me from being my own chew toy until I pass out is trade enough.”

Andrew glared. “That isn’t how it works.”

He resisted rolling his eyes. “I don’t have anything to ask right now. I’ll save it for a rainy day.” Neil looked up and saw Andrew standing across the counter, leaning his elbows over and staring at him intensely. “What, scared?” he teased.

He scoffed as he stood upright. “You wish I was,” he said, dismissive. Neil was about to make a witty remark, but Andrew walked around the counter and asked, “Yes or no?”

He couldn’t help smiling a little. “Yes.”

Andrew kissed him like he could never be scared.


End file.
